


Far From Home

by katfett



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Romance, Smut, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 22:29:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30079311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katfett/pseuds/katfett
Summary: Hitting someone with one’s car was not on on the top of Niamh’s to do list. Hitting a ninth century viking warrior with one’s car? Further down said list. It just wasn’t a good day for Niamh or Hvitserk.
Relationships: Hvitserk (Vikings)/Original Character(s), Hvitserk (Vikings)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Far From Home

**Author's Note:**

> So originally I posted this as a Finan/TLK fic but just had no real drive to keep it going as that then I was like, this would actually be amazing as a Hvitserk one where it challenges his beliefs, loyalties, etc so I tweaked it and here we are! It definitely won’t be updated as much as others but it is a start!

The light was blinding. The crack of thunder was the only sound Hvitserk heard amid the battle. Ubbe was off to his left one moment, gone the next. Blackness flooded his vision. Panic settled into Hvitserk’s whole being as time seemed to falter; a heavy weight pressed him down, suffocating him. He tried to call out for Ubbe, Bjorn, anyone but nothing escaped. He wanted to run, tried to but it was no use. His body was frozen, trapped in such a never-ending sea of black.

A splash upon his cheek – wet and ice cold against his warm skin. He twitched in reaction, fingers clenching around his axe as another splash followed the second. With a heavy groan he rolled his head to the side as his eyes fluttered open.

It was still raining, that was a good sign he thought. He heard a rumble of thunder overhead, and the rain falling but no sounds of battle. He couldn’t hear the screams, the shouts, the sing of steel clashing against wood and steel. Confused, he lifted his head only for a sharp pain to spike up his neck. He curled over onto his side, clutching tightly to his sword and neck.

The forest was dense and overgrown around him, what he could see of it anyway. Lifting his head slowly, dark eyes searching wildly for his companions.

Panic seized him for the second time that night. He was alone. There were no bodies, there was no blood. Alone in an unknown place, Odin only knew what was going on. He just hoped they were alright.

Rolling onto his stomach, Hvitserk slowly pushed himself to his feet, almost slipping on the muddy ground beneath his feet. He needed to find camp, he needed to find something that was familiar to him.

He swore under his breath, clutching his axe tight to him as he tried to shake the light headedness overcoming him.

He just had to keep pushing on; move forward. If he found a town, he could find his bearings. He couldn’t be too far. Whatever trickster was playing with him tonight hadn’t claimed him yet, and Hvitserk would do everything in his power to survive this.

He’d survived worse he tried to reason.

Using the heavy growth and trees to keep himself upright, Hvitserk picked a direction and marched. He slipped a few times, he nearly knocked himself out with low hanging branches. The storm didn’t let up and with no moon or torch light, Hvitserk could barely see beyond his nose.

He bit out a curse here and there, trying not to question Odin had decided to upend him in the middle of battle. He just needed to find a town, a camp, anything.

***

Niamh squinted. The windscreen wipers were swinging back and forth on the highest setting possible; trying to chuck the downpour out of her path. Rinse and repeat. It was near impossible to see beyond into the darkness. She swore. She’d not intended to be so late but with home so close she wanted to get there after being away for a month.

Any other time Niamh would’ve enjoyed the night drive in the rain; the sound of the rain on the roof of the car would normally have a calming effect on her, but not tonight. She was already twenty something under the speed limit to make sure if she needed to stop suddenly, she could.

Driving the back tonight may not have been the best idea. She hadn’t had a lot of good ideas recently. She reached out and hit the dial to skip the song that was playing, a little restless that she still couldn’t see well beyond the windscreen.

Every so often she would hum along with the song and it soothed her restlessness for a little while. Then she would remember Seamus. She hoped wherever he was, he found some measure of peace. Two years fighting a losing battle to aggressive lung cancer and her stepfather had finally given in. He was the last of her family, he’d been so strong for so long.

A tight pain in her chest made her rubbed over her heart. For so long he’d been the only constant, the anchor she’d needed to make it through all the rougher years. Now he was gone. She wanted to say she was happy he no longer suffered the pain he’d so long endured, but the truth was, she hated that he wasn’t there anymore.

Thinking back over the last month, Niamh wondered whether she’d done enough. Putting her job on hold wasn’t a question, the time off had been good. She’d moved into his small London flat for the last few weeks. She’d stayed there to finalise what she could, have the funeral and now she was heading back to Aylsham.

The small village south of Liverpool had been her home for the better part of the last ten years. After a month away though it was odd to be coming home, alone. She wouldn’t be ringing anyone to tell them she’d arrived safely. Niamh felt her chest ache a little again and sighed heavily.

Niamh glanced out her side mirror, unable to see anything behind her but the darkest night.

***

Blood spilled down his hand, he tried to shake the feeling back and ease the trembling, but it wouldn’t work. Heart pounding fiercely in his chest and breath escaping in short, harsh pants he limped his way through the uneven terrain, sliding across the wet ground. He had to keep moving. His boots and his clothes soaked.

He trudged on, the cut in his side ached. He hadn’t noticed he was bleeding at first. The ache had come first. He’d been wounded enough throughout the years to recognise the sensation.

Hvitserk cursed under his breath. He could scare breathe deep enough to catch his breath. He didn’t know how long he’d been moving, only that his panic was returning. If he didn’t find somewhere soon, he’d collapse on the forest floor and bleed out.

Deep in his thoughts, Hvitserk failed to notice the way the trees began to thin out. When he did, he paused, leaning against a tree for a moment. He clutched at the pendant about his neck.

A cough wracked his body and he groaned as the pain in his side flared. Where was Ubbe? Where was Sigurd, and Ivar? What in all that is holy happened to him? Where was he?

With a sharp grunt, Hvitserk pushed himself from the tree and stepped the remaining few feet out onto what he thought was a path. In the dark he couldn’t see much, the path itself was strange. With a furrowed brow, Hvitserk tried to scuff at the earth. It didn’t move. Without any light, he couldn’t make out a lot. The rain beat down on his head as he looked skywards for a second, letting the rain wash over his dirt ridden features as he steadied himself for a few moments; breathing as deep as he could.

The forest stretched on again on the opposite side ahead of him. He turned a little and tried to look as far down the strange path as he could. Which way did he go? Without knowing what direction to travel, he could end up anywhere.

“Damn.”

He heard a noise behind him, movement of something down the path coming up at great speed. Turning, Hvitserk was blinded for the second time in less than a day only instead of being winded and dazed his entire world went dark as something ploughed into him.

***

The silence in the car was broken sharply as Niamh’s phone began to ring. She jumped, reaching across to the passenger seat to grab it. Not looking, she fumbled and knocked it down onto the floor.

“Fuck.” Niamh took her foot off the accelerator, swearing as she fumbled for her phone, glancing up every second or so to make sure she wasn’t going off the road. Who could honestly be calling her at this time of the night? Her fingers wrapped around her phone and she straightened herself up.

The phone stopped ringing as she glanced at the caller ID and then back at the road.

Then it happened.

Her car clipped something and knocked her off course. She hit the brakes; heart racing a thousand miles a minute as the car screeched to a stop.

She swore. She knew better.

What had she hit? Niamh was panting harshly, panicking.

“Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead,” she whispered as she unbuckled herself and fumbled at the door. She shoved it open and climbed out. She raced to the back of the car and stopped short as she came upon her poor victim; hand covering her mouth as she gasped.

There, lying crumpled on his side, was a man. She’d hit a person.

Dear god, she’d hit a person.

Her hands trembled and her legs lost all ability to hold her up and she collapsed to the ground beside the unconscious man. It felt like it took hours to shake herself enough to crawl across to the man. Her brain was buzzing as she tried to think of what to do.

Check to make sure he’s alive.

In her shocked and terrified state, her hands trembled as she reached out to the man. Her fingers closed around leather. As though it jolted her back into herself, Niamh frowned. Leather? She didn’t roll him onto his back, worried she might hurt him some more, or exacerbate whatever injuries he might have.

She realised then he was wearing some sort of leather, cloth and fur. What on earth was he wearing?

Check to make sure he’s alive. Niamh swore at herself, she reached up to his neck, trying to find his pulse.

She held her breath as she waited for any sign that he was alive. She let out the breath when she felt a faint pulse, thank god he wasn’t dead.

Niamh inched a little closer, trying to get a look at his face in the rain. What damage has she done to him? A quick scan showed no obvious sign, no twisted limbs, but Niamh still couldn’t get over the clothing. It looked like he’d stepped out of a costume movie. Where on earth had he come from?

Glancing out to the forest through the harsh rain, Niamh sighed. Had they been filming something nearby? She needed to get help. Trying to find a film set would be too hard, she knew there was a late-night clinic in town, if she could get him there in time, he might stand a chance.

Niamh leaned over him and jumped back a little seeing the axe laying by his hand. She reached out to touch it when suddenly a hand snatched at her wrist. She cried out and tried to yank her hand free but the axe that had been laying on the ground was now at her throat.

She froze as she looked down. The man was awake and staring at her with unfocused eyes. Niamh felt a dreadful wave of fear creep along her spine as she stared back at the man, wincing as the axe, which she now knew to be real and sharp, bit into her throat.

“I- I’m sorry,” she stammered out. “I- I didn’t mean to hit you.”

She watched his brows come together. He tried to move, to sit up, but he clutched at his side, the grip on the axe slipping. As quickly as he gained consciousness, he went out again. Niamh let out the breath she’d been holding as he did. Least he couldn’t hold the axe on her.

Well, she hadn’t killed him. Niamh looked at her car and then back to the man. She needed to get him into the backseat. Reaching out, she plucked up the axe and scrambled to her feet, reaching the back door, she jerked it open and tossed the weapon onto the floor.

Now to move him. Niamh came down by his head, grateful he’d at least fallen back unconscious on his back. Crouching down she managed to get her arms under his shoulders and arms and groaned as she tried to lift him even just a little to get him to the car.

She tried to be careful with him, worried she might hurt him more doing this, but not able to wait out here for an ambulance Niamh huffed and wheezed as she dragged the downright heavy man to the car. She wasn’t weak but the dead weight of him was a lot.

She managed to scoot herself into the backseat, pulling him across it as she shuffled back across the seat. She collapsed against the other back door and let out a sharp breath. In the dim light of the car, Niamh was surprised by the absolute mess across her lap.

Long, dirty blonde hair was braided back from his face, tied into a knot at the back of his head, matching the slight stubble across his jaw. He was covered in dirt and mud but under it he looked young. Niamh glanced down along his body. The clothing looked real. Whoever had made it was talented. There she saw the darker patch down on his side. He had been bleeding. Niamh wasn’t an expert, but it was too high for where she’d hit him, had he already been injured?

Still certain she had accidentally hit someone on a film set, maybe an extra, Niamh managed to climb out from beneath the large man, and he was large. He had to be a good a head taller than her, six foot and he was solid muscle.

Niamh finally shut the back door of the car after pushing his feet in. She leaned her head against the window for a second, breathing heavily. She was soaking wet, her hair was sticking to her skin, her clothes were drenched but she’d managed to get him into the car.

She climbed into the driver’s seat and slowly shut the door. Numbly she turned the ignition and put the car in drive. With a shaky breath, she headed off down the road.

***

The parking lot of the late-night clinic was empty as Niamh pulled in. Niamh was quiet as she unbuckled herself. Her passenger hadn’t moved in the twenty minutes it’d taken her to get into town. She felt like it should’ve been a small mercy, both for him and her but Niamh wanted to know who she’d hit, wanted to apologise a hundred times over for foolishly grabbing at her phone when she should’ve been more careful.

Shakily, she got her door open, grateful the rain has eased to a light sleet as she climbed out and headed for the entrance. The doors slid open, and she saw the nurse, someone she knew, behind the desk look up at her as she entered. She must’ve looked dreadful. Drenched and like a drowned rat and shaking.

“Niamh, you look dreadful, what happened?”

God, how did she start explaining this?

Niamh nodded a little. “I- I ah, hit someone out on one of the back roads. I’ve got him in my car, he is banged up and he’s bleeding on his side. I- I didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry.”

The nurse, Ellen, quickly jumped into action startling Niamh a little. It felt like a blur as the nurse came rushing round and calling out for a hand. They directed Niamh to sit down in one of the chairs and she watched as they headed out to her car with a stretcher.

The reality of it all crashed down on her. She’d hit someone with her car. She’d nearly killed someone. He could still die. Niamh felt like crying as she buried her head in her hands. Please don’t let him die.

***

Niamh sat with a blanket round her as she stared at the police officer across from her. She felt a sick lump in her throat and hollowness in her belly. The officer was patient, even after seeming to doubt her recount of what happened. When Ellen had said she’d called them, Niamh had simply nodded and waited. She couldn’t do much else. She knew bringing him to the clinic meant she’d need to face the consequences.

She had told the officer everything, even handed over the axe and told him she wasn’t sure who he was, where he was from and that she’d made a mistake.

“You didn’t find any I.D. on him?”

Niamh glanced up from her lap. “No, I didn’t.”

The police nodded, writing it down. “The nurse couldn’t find anything on him either, most they found were a few odd coins, some rings and the like. We’re trying to find if anyone has put out a missing person report matching his description.”

Niamh nodded. “What will happen now?”

The officer watched her for a moment. “He’s alive, the doctor said he had a laceration on his side which wasn’t caused by your car. He has some bruising on his ribs, they’re uncertain if your car did that given the shape he was in when you clipped him. Until he wakes up, there isn’t much we can do Niamh. He might want to press charges, that’s his right.”

She nodded mutely. “I know.”

The officer tapped his pen on the arm of the chair and stood. Niamh followed suit. “Ellen knows to contact us when he wakes up.”

Niamh watched him leave before she looked down the hall. They’d wheeled him into the third room.

“Niamh,” Ellen said, startling her a little. “Try and get some rest. He’ll be asleep for a while.”

“Can I go sit with him?” She knew it was an odd request. No one knew who he was, where he was from, nothing. She just didn’t want to see in the waiting room any longer. It’d been dark and raining when he’d regained consciousness, but it didn’t stop Niamh from seeing the sheer panic in his face. She’d done that to him.

Ellen gave her a small jerk of her head to say go on. Thankfully, knowing Ellen met Niamh didn’t have to worry too much about the oddness of her request. She gently opened the door of the room and stepped inside.

Whoever he was lay on the bed in the room, breathing evenly as he slept. Niamh took the seat by the door and curled up, wrapping the blanket around her legs as she drew them to her chest. Ellen had cleaned him up a little she noticed.

His face had a slight tan. He was covered in a gown and the blankets. She noticed his arms were scarred even from where she sat. Hadn’t they been special effects from the movie set? Her brows knitted together in confusion.

“Who are you?” she whispered into the space between them. It didn’t take long before the shock turned into exhaustion and Niamh fell asleep curled up on the chair by the door.


End file.
